What's Going On in that Beautiful Mind?
by Elvengirl247
Summary: One-shots centered around Sherlock, Molly, and their complicated friendship. Or perhaps it's more than that? These are not interconnecting. Sherlolly!


**Hi! I hope everybody will enjoy these little short stories. I recently started watching Sherlock and I fell completely in love! And so, stories were born :) So this first one shot is set just after Moriarty attacks Molly. I apologize for any mistakes, I'm new to the fandom so some things might not be entirely correct. I hope you enjoy this first story! It starts off as pre-Sherlolly.  
**

 _Open Wounds_

Sherlock And Molly crashed back into 221b. Both battered and bruised, Molly the worse of the two, what with being practically whipped and thrown against a brick wall and crashing through a window. She tried to hide her small limp as a result of a possibly sprained ankle. Apparently she hid it quite well, even from Sherlock.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen. "Why Don't you go clean up a bit. Ill make some tea. There are towels under the sink." He suggested. Molly agreed and made her way to the bathroom. As soon as she was out of Sherlock's sight she limped all she wanted.

Molly turned on the shower to quite a cool temperature. She shed her clothing; shirt practically in rags, and stepped into the shower.

She struggled not to cry out as the water streamed over the gashes on her back. She thought of anything, _everything,_ to get her mind off the pain. She scrubbed the blood and dirt off the rest of her body. In the midst of trying to reach the back of her leg, she twisted her already swollen ankle in a very painful way. The pain got the better of her as she cried out and collapsed on the shower floor. As she lay cringing, Molly heard footsteps running down the hall. Sherlock's voice came through the door.

"Molly? Are you alright?"He asked. Almost a hint a fear in his voice.

"I...I'm fine." She choked out. "I fell. that's all. Don't wor...Oooowwwww!" She screamed again as the water hit her back. The wounds stinging fiercly.

"Molly! Let me come in!" Sherlock insisted.

"I can' just...mmmm let you in! I'm not at all decent!" She argued.

"Well hurry up and do your best to _be_ decent!"

She strained to turn off the shower, put her clothes back on, and unlock the door. Sherlock burst in as soon as he heard the lock turn. He looked her up and down quickly. "Sit down. Those wounds need to be properly cleaned and your ankle is swollen."

Molly sat on the side of the bathtub as Sherlock retreated from the room. Returning momentarily with a plethora of first aid supplies.

"Sherlock you don't have to..." She protested.

"Who else is going to do it?" He asked. Already knowing the answer. "Show me where the worst places are."

"On my back."

"Turn around."

"But Sherlock-"

"Molly, this is a matter of injuries it is not the time to be...embarrassed."

Molly sighed and turned around as he had requested. Sherlock carefully pushed her shirt up to reveal the open wounds. He began to carefully clean them with antiseptic. As his one hand cleaned of the blood the other rested on Molly's shoulder as if to keep her steady. Molly sucked air through her teeth at a sudden burning sensation.

"Talk to me, Molly. It will help get your mind off the pain." Sherlock said.

"I have nothing to say." She replied. Though a million questions ran through her mind. _Why are you doing this? Is this a dream? Are you on something Sherlock? Since when are you so gentle? I love you...Do you love me?_

"Anything."

"Is it that bad?" She asked; referring to her back.

"It's not pretty. Give it time though, it will heal." Then, in a whisper, "It hurts me more than it hurts you." Sherlock thought out loud. Not meaning for Molly to hear, but she did.

"What did you say?" She questioned.

"Nothing." The normal, unemotional Sherlock responded.

After he had finished cleaning the gashes, and covered them in gauze, Sherlock looked at Molly's ankle. "Not much to do about that except stay off it and ice it...I'll be back.

Sherlock left the room. Molly sat on the tub, trying to make sense of his sudden kindness. For whatever reason she decided to get up and follow him to the kitchen. Where she assumed he went for ice.

Molly limped into the kitchen to find Sherlock making an ice pack. She winced with every step. Hearing her enter the room Sherlock turned.

"Molly! I told you to stay off of it." He scolded.

"I don't want to be helpless." She replied.

"I never said you were helpless. Come on you need to lay down." Sherlock unexpectedly swept Molly into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. Once he had sat her on the bed, he lifted her foot onto a pillow, wrapped the ice pack in a washcloth, a placed it carefully on her swollen ankle. He knelt by the bed in silence for a moment. Then he asked. "Did I hurt your back?"

Molly looked at him, puzzled. "What?"

"When I carried you in here. I didn't realize that may have hurt you." He explained.

"Oh, no it was fine."

There was another moment of silence. "Would you like something to eat?" Sherlock asked.

"Now that you mention it...I'm quite hungry." Molly giggled a little. Sherlock actually smiled a little as well.

"Ill run out and get something. Ill be back soon." Sherlock started to stand but hesitated. Then, he unexpectedly placed a kiss on Molly's forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, but as soon as he broke away he left the room without making eye contact, or looking back.

/

Sherlock returned in a matter of a half hour. It was now fully dark outside. He had went to the deli down the street and brought back some potato soup and mocha frappe's. Sherlock sat down cross-legged on the bed next to Molly and began eating.

As they ate Sherlock went to his mind palace and tried to solve the mystery on why he had decided to kiss Molly on the forehead. More importantly, why he wanted to kiss her again. The thought startled him. He was not himself. Emotions got in the way of more important matters and love is a disadvantage. But still, he had never felt this way before...or at least since his early teenage years. He didn't know because he had deleted any memory of love. He tried as hard as he could to dismiss the feeling but he couldn't...almost wouldn't. His hands trembled. His heart thumped violently inside of his chest. He felt like he couldn't swallow, like something was caught in his throat.

Molly, suddenly noticing his trembling, sat her hand on his knee. "Sherlock are you okay?"

"No." He barely choked out. Goodness, he couldn't even speak properly. His mind was slapping him. Warning him that love could hurt him. He needed to stay alone, alone protected him. His defense mechanism against emotions was so strong it was almost automatic now. He tried so hard to shove it away. He needed this, wanted this.

"Sherlock...what's wro-" Molly tried to ask but Sherlock cut her off.

"Molly...I need to kiss you." He stammered. Molly lowered her eyes quickly. What was he doing? Did he mean that? Had her ears deceived her? Despite her confusion she kicked the questions out of her mind. She needed to be confident. She needed to be confident for _him._ She could get a sense of what was going through that mind right now. She knew love wasn't one of"His areas." She also saw that he was struggling to try and make it one. And well, if she was the one he loved, then she considered herself the luckiest pathologist in the world. To be loved by the worlds only consulting detective. Molly looked up at him, and nodded slightly.

Sherlock leaned forward and their lips met.

The kiss started off gentle. Despite the ease of it Molly's heart was going a mile a minute. Oh how long she had dreamed of this day. The day she would kiss Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock's heart may have been beating even faster than Molly's. For the first time ever his brain wasn't telling him what to do; his body was. An experience he found strangely invigorating. He deepened their kiss and pulled Molly into his lap. She eagerly accepted the offer and tangled her hands in his mass of curls. She could not put into words how much she had always wanted to touch his hair. It was a thousand times softer than she had imagined.

Sherlock tugged Molly closer to him as he wrapped his arms around her waist. His one hand ran up and down her spine. The other held her firmly against him. He didn't want to let her go. Didn't want to let this part of himself go.

Finally they broke for air.

"Sher...Sherlock...I" Molly breathed. Sherlock hushed her with his own words.

"I love you Molly. I always have, but for once, I wasn't clever enough to see it right away."

 **So how was it? Please leave reviews! I have more one shot ideas in my head so hopefully updates will be soon :)**


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